


Fading Silver Lining

by ObtuseOctopus



Series: The Ortiz Family [9]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Bad Parenting, Depression, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, References to Depression, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:20:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22687621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObtuseOctopus/pseuds/ObtuseOctopus
Summary: • COMPLETE. •Malachite reflects on her mother in her early years, mostly how absent she seemed. Always there, yet... so far gone.
Relationships: Jasper/Lapis Lazuli (Steven Universe)
Series: The Ortiz Family [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1574440
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	Fading Silver Lining

She’s seen it before; the exhaust in the slope of her shoulders, the devoid look in her eyes that look dull and deprived of any life. Emotionless, a gray cloud sweeping over her, not even her hair had any shine nor her body held any structure. She was the empty shell of what used to be, something that Malachite could never recall.

This was mother, the woman responsible for birthing her and bringing her into this world. This was the woman that ever so hesitantly breastfed her and kept her warm. Rarely fed her unless Jasper told her to, rarely held her unless Jasper again said to.

This was the woman… that she never saw smile.

Lapis was a strange girl and even she knew that. Her mother would stand in one place and just… stare into the abyss of nothingness. Sometimes, her shoulders slacked and her gaze would falter to lidded eyes, still focused on nothing in particular but was tired all the same. There was the eerie vibe of sadness she carried like flies to manure, but like a horse she didn’t break. She didn’t break, but she was lifeless. She was cold, she refused to bond, and she had a mental wall up to keep her protected. She didn’t even enjoy the thought of wanting to bond with her only child.

Malachite once saw her mother just stand in her room for an hour before she resumed life like nothing had happened. The gray in her eyes would fade back into a neutral stance, and she would turn from melancholy to null. A small shift, but also very big when it came to Lapis.

Malachite had never seen her smile before.

And she still hasn’t either.

She took long baths and showers- something Jasper yelled at her a lot for. Lapis also only spoke in yelling curses or deadpan statements. Never a casual thing or a joke.

Malachite didn’t even know if she was happy.

It was one rainy day that she got a better look at her mother- one where she was more open and exposed. Lapis never cried, never in public at least or in front of others, but when Jasper had left to get groceries, Malachite found her sobbing alone in her dark room.

There were some pills and other medications on her drawer, tissues nowhere in sight. Lapis was on her bed, sitting, hunched over in despair. She sobbed quietly like a whisper, not wanting to be heard.

“... Mom?” Malachite peeped.

Lapis sighed. “... I’ll make dinner when Jasper gets back.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Then leave.” Her tone had become more stern, more icy.

Malachite didn’t want to leave. But she also didn’t want to further upset her mother. So, she left the room.

She never understood it, really. She didn’t get why her mother never smiled and never laughed.

Surely she liked Jasper enough to marry her, right? And she liked her enough to have her too.

Right?

Lapis was… a mystery. She was a Loch Ness still to be found. Malachite didn’t get why she got mad so easily or why she sometimes blurted that she wished she never met Jasper, and she never understood why even then Lapis would cry.

She never would understand it for years to come. When Lapis would hide away or take her long baths, Malachite would ponder about why she never seemed to be proud of her.

She would never understand until years later near into her adulthood. Malachite felt sadness before, but she never knew the name of it. She felt shame and guilt for her existence, but never a name. She had felt like crying just like her mother, yet again knew not a name to the emotion that she would feel.

Depression.

That was the word for it.

She didn’t know of it until far past her days, after her parents divorced and after so many countless nights of hating herself.

An illness in the genes? Something she inherited from her environment? Something that randomly chose her like a reverse destiny? She knew not the reason, but the name now.

However, even then she felt lost and confused.

People would talk of having a childhood, all happy and with a joyful regime that would last eons. Meanwhile, Malachite would wonder if she ever felt joy. She never had played in sand, she never got to have a fun time at a zoo or aquarium, and the faintly reminder of her mother’s shadow in front of the window late at night hung in her head like a guillotine.

Bad blood ran in the family, the family that bruised easily, the family whose business was destruction and mourning.

Malachite sometimes wished that she wasn’t a part of it.

Some nights she would stare out at the world, watching the stars and the moon, and she would dream of a place where the winters were warm and the summers were cold. A place where goodness flourished and happiness bloomed. There was a place that people said, a place where love conquered all, where the streets ran with milk and honey.

But never trust the moon.

She’s always changing.


End file.
